"Gentle Fist Art: Eight Trigrams Two Palms!"
Boom!
In the middle of the corridor, Hyūga Shinmune struck a short-haired boy square in the chest with a twin palm thrust. The boy flew backward, skidding across the floor, as Shinmune stood with a sneer.
"You're not even qualified to use taijutsu!" he declared with contempt.
A wave of chatter rippled through the onlooking students.
"Poor guy. He got wrecked again."
"I heard his dad's just some dropout who only knows taijutsu."
"Doesn't the Hyūga clan only use taijutsu too?"
"That's different! The Hyūga's Gentle Fist is the most refined taijutsu style in the entire shinobi world!"
"Hmph. Big deal. Didn't this guy cry and pee himself after losing to Uchiha Fenghuo yesterday?"
"Wait, for real?"
"I heard that too. His pants were soaked and stank. Fenghuo didn't even sign a sparring waiver with him."
Hyūga Shinmune, barely basking in the glory of his move, stiffened. His Byakugan flared—well, flared whiter.
"Shut up!" he barked, cheeks flushing red. "You lot don't know anything! If anyone dares bring that up again—mocking the Hyūga name—I'll make sure you can't talk!"
The Hyūga were one of Konoha's noble clans. Even as children, few dared cross them lightly.
Unfortunately for Shinmune, Uchiha Fenghuo was in Class Two.
"Yo yo yo," a casual voice cut through the noise. "Did you at least wash your hands after peeing yourself yesterday?"
Fenghuo strolled in lazily and helped the fallen boy to his feet. He blinked at the unmistakably thick eyebrows. Ah, unmistakable. That had to be the future "Blue Beast of Konoha"—Might Guy.
"Uchiha Fenghuo!" Shinmune snarled. Enemies were said to burn with hatred when they met. But Shinmune's glare was less burning, more... Byakugan bulge.
Fenghuo smirked. "What, just me?" He turned to the boy. "You okay?"
"I-I'm fine," said Guy, catching his breath. "Thanks."
Fenghuo recalled that Guy and Kakashi were the same age—just five years old now. Still kids, barely beginning their shinobi journey.
"You think spraying water on someone's pants and pretending they peed themselves is funny?" Shinmune shouted. "That's a trick for toddlers!"
Fenghuo raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You sound proud."
Pffft—hahaha!
The crowd exploded with laughter again.
Shinmune's face turned redder than a ripe tomato.
He had cried to his father the day before, only to be met with the "Iron Fist of Love"—a punishing lecture and a threat. If he couldn't handle his own schoolyard humiliation, and it brought shame to the Hyūga name, he'd regret it.
Shinmune had tried to "reverse engineer" a defense—claiming his pants had been wet from water. Clearly, that had backfired.
"Shut up! All of you, shut up!" he shouted, threatening everyone like a feral cat. The more he yelled, the harder they laughed.
Fenghuo turned to Guy. "Hey, what's your name?"
"My name is Might Guy," he said quickly. "You can call me Guy!"
"Might Guy," Fenghuo repeated. "Got it. So... why did Shinmune attack you?"
"You trying to defend this loser?" Shinmune snapped. "Don't think I won't fight you too, Uchiha!"
Fenghuo ignored him.
Guy looked between the two, hesitated, then bowed his head. "It's because… I train in taijutsu."
Fenghuo already knew. In the decades to come, this boy would surpass limits, embody the spirit of youth, and be the number one taijutsu user in the entire ninja world.
"You don't deserve to use taijutsu!" Shinmune shouted. "You don't even understand it!"
Guy's fists trembled. "That's not true! My father taught me taijutsu!"
"Oh please," Shinmune scoffed. "The taijutsu of a failed genin? You call that taijutsu? The Gentle Fist of the Hyūga is the pinnacle of martial arts in the shinobi world!"
Guy clenched his teeth but said nothing.
Fenghuo placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just because something's number one today, doesn't mean it'll stay that way. Guy, I believe you can surpass the Gentle Fist—and forge your own path."
Guy's eyes lit up with passion. "My father said the same thing! He told me that youth is something you burn—and blood is meant to be spilled with spirit!"
His grin flashed with energy. Behind him, a crashing wave roared in the background—pure metaphor—and rays of sunlight beamed dramatically down.
Fenghuo twitched. He's already like this?!
Then he turned to Shinmune. "Apologize. To Guy."
"What?!" Shinmune gaped, furious. "Apologize to him? Who do you think you are? Who do you think he is? And who do you think the Hyūga Clan is?! I'd never—!"
Though only from a branch family, Shinmune spoke with the pride of all Konoha's elite. In this era—just 40 years since the village's founding—the great clans had grown powerful. The Uchiha, Hyūga, and others held influence far beyond common civilians.
Having a noble's child apologize to a commoner wasn't just personal—it was political.
And Shinmune knew that if he apologized now, his father would likely beat him again that night. Then drag him to the Main House to beg forgiveness.
Fenghuo's tone shifted—serious, dramatic.
"The Hyūga clan has given much to Konoha. Their Byakugan has protected the village, their warriors have shed blood for the Land of Fire. Heroes, honored dead, sacrifices that shaped our future…"
His gaze hardened.
"How do you think they'd feel... seeing you like this?"
"Y-You… What nonsense are you spouting?!" Shinmune stammered. But his voice had weakened.
Fenghuo stepped forward. "Assaulting classmates. Mocking their training. Acting entitled and shameless. Hyūga Shinmune… are you worthy of your ancestors? Are you even worthy of the Gentle Fist?"
The hallway fell silent.
Most of the students watching were born into civilian families.
Shinmune trembled. Finally, he walked up to Guy, biting back shame.
"…I'm sorry."
Fenghuo raised a brow. "Didn't hear you."
"I said—sorry!" Shinmune shouted.
Fenghuo gave a lazy shrug. "And if 'sorry' was enough, what's the point of the Konoha Military Police?"
"You—! You're the one who made me apologize!" Shinmune howled, tears streaming as he turned and bolted down the hallway, sobbing.
"Oh dear," Fenghuo sighed, hands behind his head. "Today's kids are really fragile. Cry just from a little scolding."
The students looked at him, some speechless—but many, especially the civilians, saw him in a new light.
Guy gazed at Fenghuo with shining admiration.
Fenghuo's ego remained unsatisfied. He waved. "Alright, show's over. Let's go, class is starting."